I'll Get You Sooner or Later
December/30/2007 02:27 PM Filed in: Random
My friend Stephanie sells commercial real estate over the phone. I guess her company is supposed to be the largest online yada yada commerical whatever you get the point. Stephanie constantly tells me about how hard her job is because people will consistently berate her because Americans don't really appreciate tele-marketers. I guess she has to call these people up and spark their interest in commercial real estate, but she deals with obscene language, and people who say they will call her back, but never do. I've heard it from her time and time again.

Stephanie on the right
Well, I told her I would call in and pretend to be one of these difficult individuals and just basically give her a hard time. I told her that I would mask my voice and do my best to give her trouble on a day when she would least expect it. I first called about 3 months ago. I tried to do a southern accent, unfortunately she knew my voice and she had caller I.D. on her work phone, so my efforts were thwarted.
A couple weeks ago I had a great idea. I decided I would get her by having my Trinidadian teammate call her using his caribbean accent and his 917 area code phone. What you are about to see is the video of him calling her company one morning and talking with an unprepared Stephanie. Notice how he switches from using his accent to talking perfect english just to be more confusing. He even says my name as a reference, but she still can't figure it out:
She promptly called him back and continued to be very confused:
She later told me that she was crying tears of relief when she found out that it was all a prank. Seriously. Even after I picked up she still didn't know what was going on. I had to calm her down. All I have to say is that when I say I'm gonna get you, I'll get you.

Stephanie on the right
Well, I told her I would call in and pretend to be one of these difficult individuals and just basically give her a hard time. I told her that I would mask my voice and do my best to give her trouble on a day when she would least expect it. I first called about 3 months ago. I tried to do a southern accent, unfortunately she knew my voice and she had caller I.D. on her work phone, so my efforts were thwarted.
A couple weeks ago I had a great idea. I decided I would get her by having my Trinidadian teammate call her using his caribbean accent and his 917 area code phone. What you are about to see is the video of him calling her company one morning and talking with an unprepared Stephanie. Notice how he switches from using his accent to talking perfect english just to be more confusing. He even says my name as a reference, but she still can't figure it out:
She promptly called him back and continued to be very confused:
She later told me that she was crying tears of relief when she found out that it was all a prank. Seriously. Even after I picked up she still didn't know what was going on. I had to calm her down. All I have to say is that when I say I'm gonna get you, I'll get you.
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Best of the Worst
December/30/2007 02:26 PM Filed in: Random
It's very tough to get me angry. I pretty much find the funny side to everything in life. So even when someone comes at me with the utmost disrespect I laugh it off. That being said, I figured I would relay a couple things that have been said to me that I find hilarious.
At a house party:
I was at a small gathering at a house next door to my apartment socializing when someone said "I could, but it's so big and hard". I don't know what they were talking about, but I, of course, said "that's what she said". I always say it because it always works. Well, also because Michael Scott is my hero.
Anyway, some guy who I DIDN'T know interrupted the mild laugher of the room and said "you know he always says that right? Like he didn't make that up or anything".
I looked at him and thought to myself that he just addressed the room as if I wasn't standing right in front of him. Then I realized that I didn't know him at all. Then I said "I mean, yea I do. It always works".
"Right. I get it", he said back.
Hilarious. I wasn't even mad. I was more impressed that he had the balls to come at me like that not knowing exactly how crazy I could be. I could be a psycho who fights for no reason. Luckily I'm not. Besides he was actually right. I do say that all the time.
Yahoo! Hilarity:
Ever since I started posting on Yahoo! I have noticed a difference in the blog comments. See, people come here because they want to read what I have to say. Yahoo! readers are people who could care less sometimes so their comments can reflect their lack of Rod Benson support.
One recent comment had me laughing so hard. I was writing about what makes a good fan, which was a complete joke in the first place, and this guy said that my #4 (sober up) was once violated by me:
"in regards to #4 I was personally at the Cal @ UCLA football game in 2005 where an injured and intoxicated Rod Benson was talking way too much trash in line to enter the Rose Bowl. Not only does that violate rule #4, but he was heckling some 5'2'' blonde sorority girls who, also intoxicated, naturally returned the banter. Offended, the 6'10'' Benson thought it was a personal attack and actually approached the girls face-to-face (or as close as possible) as if wanting to make the argument physical. I literally had to hold this chump back while he was pelted with wrappers and water bottles for making such a fool out of himself. What a hypocrite... I hope he never makes the league. oh and I failed to mention that I am a Cal fan too... and he was always a chump. He did nothing for the Bears."
Hahahahahahaha. Mann. First of all I even say in the post that I AM NOT A GOOD FAN. I can't be a hypocrite. Regardless, none of it is serious. The best part of this is that what he said is somewhat true. On my 21st birthday (of course I drank that day, actually the most I ever had in 24 hours) I went to watch a Cal-UCLA football game. While entering the game from the UCLA ticket entrance (my tickets would only allow for this entrance), I decided to help a couple of Cal fans who were in the back of the line cut up to the front with me. The girl was mad that I helped them cut and started yelling me. I came back at her, and I'll be honest I took it real far, but it ended quickly, I got the Cal guys in with me, and enjoyed the game until we lost. Nobody threw anything at me, nobody was going to fight, and I can bet with 99% certainty that this guy couldn't hold me back if I did need holding back. People only get held back when they want to. As if I would hit a girl anyways. I honestly believe that the guy who wrote this was one of the cal fans I helped cut in line, which would be hilarious. If not, then oh well.
It's really funny that he would hope I never make the NBA. People only have so many hopes in life and one of his hopes is that I have no success? Mann my hopes include but are not limited to: meeting Jenna Fischer, playing an NBA game, getting the #1 Madden ranking, and earning a spot on "The Real World". I can only assume his hopes include: the failure of Rod Benson, world domination, maybe even unlimited pornographic website access. Plus, it's so funny that I am a chump now, but I would be there were many opportunities for him to call me a chump at Cal. Oh well. College is a funny place. That's why I loved it so much.
Why I Hate Rod Benson:
To be honest, the first blog I ever read was titled "Why I Hate Rod Benson". It was my senior year at Cal and some girls on the track team came to me and said that a guy on the track team had a website about why he hated me. Naturally, I went and checked it out as soon as I could. I thought it was pretty funny too. He called me goofy repeatedly and said that I had a crush on his girlfriend (not true, but obviously the real reason for the whole thing), but cited a very specific incident as the main reason.
He said that one night at a party, he was changing the party music on the computer when a cup of beer hit him in the head. When he turned around to see what happened "who did [he] see running out the door? Rod Motha$#%$n Benson". Oh man I nearly pissed my pants when I read this stuff. I remember it all so clearly and it was funny then too. Someone was mad that this guy was changing the music so they threw a full cup of beer on him. I was laughing so hard at the situation that I knew I would be the most conspicuous person there, so I tried to leave before I was framed with a crime I didn't commit. Alas, I was still framed.
Well, there are two things I will never do that he claims I did. I will never waste a beer. There are too many sober kids in India. I will also never throw liquid near a computer. I love computers far too much to see them damaged by a Pabst Blue Ribbon.
At a house party:
I was at a small gathering at a house next door to my apartment socializing when someone said "I could, but it's so big and hard". I don't know what they were talking about, but I, of course, said "that's what she said". I always say it because it always works. Well, also because Michael Scott is my hero.
Anyway, some guy who I DIDN'T know interrupted the mild laugher of the room and said "you know he always says that right? Like he didn't make that up or anything".
I looked at him and thought to myself that he just addressed the room as if I wasn't standing right in front of him. Then I realized that I didn't know him at all. Then I said "I mean, yea I do. It always works".
"Right. I get it", he said back.
Hilarious. I wasn't even mad. I was more impressed that he had the balls to come at me like that not knowing exactly how crazy I could be. I could be a psycho who fights for no reason. Luckily I'm not. Besides he was actually right. I do say that all the time.
Yahoo! Hilarity:
Ever since I started posting on Yahoo! I have noticed a difference in the blog comments. See, people come here because they want to read what I have to say. Yahoo! readers are people who could care less sometimes so their comments can reflect their lack of Rod Benson support.
One recent comment had me laughing so hard. I was writing about what makes a good fan, which was a complete joke in the first place, and this guy said that my #4 (sober up) was once violated by me:
"in regards to #4 I was personally at the Cal @ UCLA football game in 2005 where an injured and intoxicated Rod Benson was talking way too much trash in line to enter the Rose Bowl. Not only does that violate rule #4, but he was heckling some 5'2'' blonde sorority girls who, also intoxicated, naturally returned the banter. Offended, the 6'10'' Benson thought it was a personal attack and actually approached the girls face-to-face (or as close as possible) as if wanting to make the argument physical. I literally had to hold this chump back while he was pelted with wrappers and water bottles for making such a fool out of himself. What a hypocrite... I hope he never makes the league. oh and I failed to mention that I am a Cal fan too... and he was always a chump. He did nothing for the Bears."
Hahahahahahaha. Mann. First of all I even say in the post that I AM NOT A GOOD FAN. I can't be a hypocrite. Regardless, none of it is serious. The best part of this is that what he said is somewhat true. On my 21st birthday (of course I drank that day, actually the most I ever had in 24 hours) I went to watch a Cal-UCLA football game. While entering the game from the UCLA ticket entrance (my tickets would only allow for this entrance), I decided to help a couple of Cal fans who were in the back of the line cut up to the front with me. The girl was mad that I helped them cut and started yelling me. I came back at her, and I'll be honest I took it real far, but it ended quickly, I got the Cal guys in with me, and enjoyed the game until we lost. Nobody threw anything at me, nobody was going to fight, and I can bet with 99% certainty that this guy couldn't hold me back if I did need holding back. People only get held back when they want to. As if I would hit a girl anyways. I honestly believe that the guy who wrote this was one of the cal fans I helped cut in line, which would be hilarious. If not, then oh well.
It's really funny that he would hope I never make the NBA. People only have so many hopes in life and one of his hopes is that I have no success? Mann my hopes include but are not limited to: meeting Jenna Fischer, playing an NBA game, getting the #1 Madden ranking, and earning a spot on "The Real World". I can only assume his hopes include: the failure of Rod Benson, world domination, maybe even unlimited pornographic website access. Plus, it's so funny that I am a chump now, but I would be there were many opportunities for him to call me a chump at Cal. Oh well. College is a funny place. That's why I loved it so much.
Why I Hate Rod Benson:
To be honest, the first blog I ever read was titled "Why I Hate Rod Benson". It was my senior year at Cal and some girls on the track team came to me and said that a guy on the track team had a website about why he hated me. Naturally, I went and checked it out as soon as I could. I thought it was pretty funny too. He called me goofy repeatedly and said that I had a crush on his girlfriend (not true, but obviously the real reason for the whole thing), but cited a very specific incident as the main reason.
He said that one night at a party, he was changing the party music on the computer when a cup of beer hit him in the head. When he turned around to see what happened "who did [he] see running out the door? Rod Motha$#%$n Benson". Oh man I nearly pissed my pants when I read this stuff. I remember it all so clearly and it was funny then too. Someone was mad that this guy was changing the music so they threw a full cup of beer on him. I was laughing so hard at the situation that I knew I would be the most conspicuous person there, so I tried to leave before I was framed with a crime I didn't commit. Alas, I was still framed.
Well, there are two things I will never do that he claims I did. I will never waste a beer. There are too many sober kids in India. I will also never throw liquid near a computer. I love computers far too much to see them damaged by a Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Poem Game Pt 2
December/17/2007 02:22 PM Filed in: Poems
Sometimes you want more than just a meal. Sometimes you need a little spice in your life. Sometimes you need to play the poem game. A place like Ft. Wayne, Indiana can have that affect on you. Maybe it's the blistering cold, or the wind that makes in colder. Maybe it's the four day roadtrip that makes you glad to get back to Bismarck, but somewhere along the way you get real hyped for some poem game.
Before I begin, I want to make it perfectly clear that these poems are not copyrgithed or anything. Steal these, rewrite em, use em. Why not? If I help someone out there discover their gift of charm and use it to thier advantage, great. Nothing would delight me more!
Now, where was I? Oh yea. So, we got to IHOP a couple of days ago for a game day breakfast. I am personally a fan of the Rooty Tooty meal, so I ordered one. You know the Rooty Tooty. 2 eggs, 2 bacon, 2 suasage, 2 ham slices, hash browns and 2 fruit covered pancakes. So sweet and delicious. While waiting for my food, I decided that I would try my hand at the poem game. I mean, success was not really the goal here, but entertainment was at a premium so I decided to give it a go. I asked our server for a pen and got to work.
Here's what I came up with:
Last night I stepped off the plane
In a random place called Ft. Wayne
Then at breakfast I saw a beautiful dame
And tried to read her Ihop nametag for a name
Like my Rooty Tooty you look so sweet
The type of girl I'd like to meet
Just like the breakfast on my tray
You could be the most important part of my day
We're here to play hoops, our game's tomorrow
And I'll surely be filled with sorrow
If I gave you tickets to the game -- to go
And you turned them down with a quick 'no!'
Come to our game tomorrow?
I asked our server to hand it to one of the other servers as two of my teammates looked on. We were all giddy to see what would happen. At the very least entertainment was sure to follow.
Our server handed it to the target who we clearly heard say "No way!"
We then watched closely as she read it and smiled and laughed. We continued to watch as she invited EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE in the building over to take a read. Seriously, she even had the cooks come out of the kitchen to gander at the poem. The whole show and tell process took a good ten minutes. We were starting to become impatient.
Finally, our server returned with a little note and handed it to me.
"I can't I have to work! Sorry. (Heart) Staci
Good luck at your game!"
Shucks, not even a witty response. I didn't really mind it, but my teammates were annoyed by the lack of a response. They called her over to the table.
"Hold on girl. This aint how the poem game works. You gotta write a poem back," one of them chimed in.
"I'm not good at poetry though. I'm sorry," such admitted.
"Well then you gotta leave a phone number or an email address or a myspace or something."
She laughed and walked away. They still were not content though. They called her back over again. I remained silent. My entertainment was growing. I decided to just take it in.
"Look. I didn't even write it, he did. But I feel embarrsassed for him. You're just gonna be like that huh?"
She broke down and wrote on the same piece of paper as the rejection:
"myspace name trixie"
It wasn't a lot, but it was the most we were going to get out of this. We let it go and went back to the hotel where we immediately searched for and found her on myspace. I mean, why not? We were still real bored with nothing else to do. This is the message we sent:
Subject: Poem Game!!!
Message: What's going on? Sorry we came on so strong today while you were working, but sometimes I just feel compelled to write a poem.
Anyways, you should let us know whats up for tomorrow night. It's friday, and it looks like you like to go out and everything. We will definitely try to head out tomorrow so just hollar.
Also, check me out at:
http://sports.yahoo.com/nba/blog/nba_experts?author=Rod+Bens
on
Rod
After we sent this message we figured it would be the end. We would be called stalkers, which was fine, and we would go about our lives.
Well, a couple hours later I got this:
"Hey! Im actually really suprised to hear from you. Wasnt expecting that. Its okay about what happened today. Sorry if I came off mean or a bitch to you guys. We get a lot of guys come in and try to mess with you while your working n I just dont have a lot of patience for that. You guys seemed really cool though. What time is that game tomorrow because i talked to my girlfriend and if we get off work in time to go to your game, im so down to go. So I guess just lemme know whats up. I thought the poem was really sweet, so since I forgot to say thank you, thank you."
I guess in the end, the poem is always a successful tool. I mean I guess I didn't have intention of dating this girl or anything, just wanted to invite her to the game. I'm still not sure if she came or not, but we had fun on a day when no fun was to be had. I have a feeling that we will be doing this all the time.
Before I begin, I want to make it perfectly clear that these poems are not copyrgithed or anything. Steal these, rewrite em, use em. Why not? If I help someone out there discover their gift of charm and use it to thier advantage, great. Nothing would delight me more!
Now, where was I? Oh yea. So, we got to IHOP a couple of days ago for a game day breakfast. I am personally a fan of the Rooty Tooty meal, so I ordered one. You know the Rooty Tooty. 2 eggs, 2 bacon, 2 suasage, 2 ham slices, hash browns and 2 fruit covered pancakes. So sweet and delicious. While waiting for my food, I decided that I would try my hand at the poem game. I mean, success was not really the goal here, but entertainment was at a premium so I decided to give it a go. I asked our server for a pen and got to work.
Here's what I came up with:
Last night I stepped off the plane
In a random place called Ft. Wayne
Then at breakfast I saw a beautiful dame
And tried to read her Ihop nametag for a name
Like my Rooty Tooty you look so sweet
The type of girl I'd like to meet
Just like the breakfast on my tray
You could be the most important part of my day
We're here to play hoops, our game's tomorrow
And I'll surely be filled with sorrow
If I gave you tickets to the game -- to go
And you turned them down with a quick 'no!'
Come to our game tomorrow?
I asked our server to hand it to one of the other servers as two of my teammates looked on. We were all giddy to see what would happen. At the very least entertainment was sure to follow.
Our server handed it to the target who we clearly heard say "No way!"
We then watched closely as she read it and smiled and laughed. We continued to watch as she invited EVERY SINGLE EMPLOYEE in the building over to take a read. Seriously, she even had the cooks come out of the kitchen to gander at the poem. The whole show and tell process took a good ten minutes. We were starting to become impatient.
Finally, our server returned with a little note and handed it to me.
"I can't I have to work! Sorry. (Heart) Staci
Good luck at your game!"
Shucks, not even a witty response. I didn't really mind it, but my teammates were annoyed by the lack of a response. They called her over to the table.
"Hold on girl. This aint how the poem game works. You gotta write a poem back," one of them chimed in.
"I'm not good at poetry though. I'm sorry," such admitted.
"Well then you gotta leave a phone number or an email address or a myspace or something."
She laughed and walked away. They still were not content though. They called her back over again. I remained silent. My entertainment was growing. I decided to just take it in.
"Look. I didn't even write it, he did. But I feel embarrsassed for him. You're just gonna be like that huh?"
She broke down and wrote on the same piece of paper as the rejection:
"myspace name trixie"
It wasn't a lot, but it was the most we were going to get out of this. We let it go and went back to the hotel where we immediately searched for and found her on myspace. I mean, why not? We were still real bored with nothing else to do. This is the message we sent:
Subject: Poem Game!!!
Message: What's going on? Sorry we came on so strong today while you were working, but sometimes I just feel compelled to write a poem.
Anyways, you should let us know whats up for tomorrow night. It's friday, and it looks like you like to go out and everything. We will definitely try to head out tomorrow so just hollar.
Also, check me out at:
http://sports.yahoo.com/nba/blog/nba_experts?author=Rod+Bens
on
Rod
After we sent this message we figured it would be the end. We would be called stalkers, which was fine, and we would go about our lives.
Well, a couple hours later I got this:
"Hey! Im actually really suprised to hear from you. Wasnt expecting that. Its okay about what happened today. Sorry if I came off mean or a bitch to you guys. We get a lot of guys come in and try to mess with you while your working n I just dont have a lot of patience for that. You guys seemed really cool though. What time is that game tomorrow because i talked to my girlfriend and if we get off work in time to go to your game, im so down to go. So I guess just lemme know whats up. I thought the poem was really sweet, so since I forgot to say thank you, thank you."
I guess in the end, the poem is always a successful tool. I mean I guess I didn't have intention of dating this girl or anything, just wanted to invite her to the game. I'm still not sure if she came or not, but we had fun on a day when no fun was to be had. I have a feeling that we will be doing this all the time.
Im Only Half of the Movement
December/17/2007 02:19 PM Filed in: Random
My teammates and I were riding through the streets of Bismarck on the way home from practice when I got a call.
I picked up the phone and said "What's up bro?"
"Bro, what's up?" was the reply.
We start every conversation the same. JGant was calling to congratulate me on a few things. What a stand up guy.
Well, sometime during the conversation, one of my teammates figured out who I was talking to.
Will Frisby interrupted my conversation. "Hold up. Is that JGant?"
"Sure is baby," I replied.
"Man you gotta ask him to sing his part of the song!"
"O.K."
I asked JGant to sing his little hook from Boom Got Them DOS! At first he was hesistant, but after some light convincing he shouted out over speakerphone: "What you think you comin to my room fo?! You already know it's BOOM THO!"
A few days later while eating dinner in Fort Wayne, Indiana, Will asked me to call JGant again. This time WIll picked up the phone and told JGant that he was a big fan. I think Will even said he was a JGant admirer.
I'm not sure how JGant responded to having his first admirer, but I don't quite think he was ready for that kind of love. He should be though. If I am going to promote the Boom Tho! movement, then he has to be ready for the big time and stay ready to give boomisms at the drop of a dime. I figured I would take the time to speed up the process.
If we were a cartoon we'd be in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'd obviously be a combination of Leonardo and Donatello. Not only do I lead, but I also do machines (that's a fact Jack!). Clay (the DOS! camera man) would be Raphael because he is cool but rude. JGant would be Michaelangelo, the party dude.
Clay likes to call refer to us like the show Entourage. He calls me Vinny Chase. I am nowhere near that class of awesome, but it's fun to hear. It's like shooting a fade-away at the park and yelling "Jordan!". I'm not even close, but I can pretend. Clay calls himself E the manager. And JGant is a mix between Johnny Drama and Turtle.
When we all get together there is a mix of ready spaghetti, swimwear that's always in there, and we already know it's Boom Tho! Sometimes I have to sock JGant in the balls to help him out, but for the most part he is the guy that really gets the party going. He's pretty much just always gong wild. You should watch the videos again and look beyond the terrible lyrics or vocal ability and look at the man. He's one silly summabitch:
Jgant is very good at being the Michaelangelo/Johnny Drama/Turtle. As we look forward to the third video, expect JGant to have his coming out party, because I'm not going anywhere without him.
I picked up the phone and said "What's up bro?"
"Bro, what's up?" was the reply.
We start every conversation the same. JGant was calling to congratulate me on a few things. What a stand up guy.
Well, sometime during the conversation, one of my teammates figured out who I was talking to.
Will Frisby interrupted my conversation. "Hold up. Is that JGant?"
"Sure is baby," I replied.
"Man you gotta ask him to sing his part of the song!"
"O.K."
I asked JGant to sing his little hook from Boom Got Them DOS! At first he was hesistant, but after some light convincing he shouted out over speakerphone: "What you think you comin to my room fo?! You already know it's BOOM THO!"
A few days later while eating dinner in Fort Wayne, Indiana, Will asked me to call JGant again. This time WIll picked up the phone and told JGant that he was a big fan. I think Will even said he was a JGant admirer.
I'm not sure how JGant responded to having his first admirer, but I don't quite think he was ready for that kind of love. He should be though. If I am going to promote the Boom Tho! movement, then he has to be ready for the big time and stay ready to give boomisms at the drop of a dime. I figured I would take the time to speed up the process.
If we were a cartoon we'd be in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I'd obviously be a combination of Leonardo and Donatello. Not only do I lead, but I also do machines (that's a fact Jack!). Clay (the DOS! camera man) would be Raphael because he is cool but rude. JGant would be Michaelangelo, the party dude.
Clay likes to call refer to us like the show Entourage. He calls me Vinny Chase. I am nowhere near that class of awesome, but it's fun to hear. It's like shooting a fade-away at the park and yelling "Jordan!". I'm not even close, but I can pretend. Clay calls himself E the manager. And JGant is a mix between Johnny Drama and Turtle.
When we all get together there is a mix of ready spaghetti, swimwear that's always in there, and we already know it's Boom Tho! Sometimes I have to sock JGant in the balls to help him out, but for the most part he is the guy that really gets the party going. He's pretty much just always gong wild. You should watch the videos again and look beyond the terrible lyrics or vocal ability and look at the man. He's one silly summabitch:
Jgant is very good at being the Michaelangelo/Johnny Drama/Turtle. As we look forward to the third video, expect JGant to have his coming out party, because I'm not going anywhere without him.
I Watch a Male Modeling Show Every Week
December/11/2007 02:18 PM Filed in: Random
I'm with 6 of my teammates. It's movie night so we all have the popcorn out watching Superbad on my 73 inch T.V. Right after the fight scene outside the random party where the guy says that his "tiger got out of the cage", I jump out of my seat and tell everyone to hold on. I grab the remote, still shocked that I almost forgot, take the T.V. off of DVD mode and put it back on cable box. I look through the channel guide until I find the Oxygen network. Boom. I set the DVR to record "Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency" which starts in 2 minutes, look around the room at the stunned faces staring back at me, then return to the movie.
My teammates didn't understand what I did. Too bad for them. I knew full well that my pants down dancing parter Christian Prelle was making his T.V. debut that night. He was selected by Janice as one of her models to headline her newly created Latin division
Rell, as he called by those who know him, was my teammate and my roommate for a year at CAL. This is the same guy who was right along side me as I went through my "I'm gonna take a megaphone with me everywhere I go just to cause a scene" phase. This is the guy who used to cook SPAM like it was some sort of delicasy. This is the same guy who was a part of my very first music video. You will never see this video because it was a valentines day video where I said sweet nothings to my then girlfriend. I will tell you that we had a line that went:
"(my part) Zero and RELL with their two breezes,
like pasta shells with the finest cheeses,
(Rell's part) when they're away it aint no fun,
like mid summer, without the sun"
Rell is the only person will literally, always challenge me for the attention of the room. However, when we combine our forces, it is always an event. Whether it's beating halo on co-op mode, watching The Hills (I call him Spencer and he hates it), or pants down dancing, we always get it done. We definitely bring out the cockiness in one another. In fact, we kind of have a credo that we took from The Sandlot: "Heroes live forever, but legends never die."
With that said, this modeling thing has given me soooo much to make fun of him for. There are so many emails going back and forth within the former CAL hoops group that involve this guy right now. I mean this is the guy who would head butt a guy who looked at him the wrong way, now he's taken on a whole new persona.
Pictures of RELL used to look like this:
Solid, right? Rell is a tough looking, party loving animal. These were the days when modeling was just a distant thought on an ambitious day. Now his pictures tend to look like this:
Notice the hair. That coddamn hair! Cmon Rell! I'm sure he didn't have to make his hair look like that, but somewhere along the way he bought it. Oh well, it got him a big time modeling gig.
You may be reading this thinking that you haven't really seen anything so bad. This is true. See, there were two before pictures, and there are two after pictures. I just need to set up the second one a little bit first. This picture was emailed to me the second it was discovered. Upon receipt, I immediately forwarded it to everyone I knew. I then proceeded to call Rell up and he didn't answer...for obvious reasons. I wouldn't answer my phone either if I discovered this:
Wow. The prices we pay for success! For starters, this picture is on a site called MEN.BGAY.COM. No way right now. No way. Then you look at this thing and you see that a guy has his head on Rell's thigh. Then you see that this guy is wearing lace underwear, which is gross. Then you see that Rell has his arm on this guys side. Then you see that that same arm is rubbing against Guy #2's balls. When he signed up for Janice Dickinson I doubt that he envisioned this picture ever being taken. Beyond that he definitely didn't think it would ever surface, but it did.
So I've built Rell up and knocked him down. Now, I'll hype him right back up. You need to watch this guys show. Seriously. I think it comes on Tuesdays at 9:30pm. If nothing else you get to see a former macho guy get naked and take funny pictures and witness the mental conflict he struggles with as he makes it big as a model. All of that, plus he hyped up the Boom Tho! movement in his Janice Dickinson profile.
To quote Rell when talking about himself: "We can't all be legends. Someone has to sit on the curb and clap as I go by."
I clap for this stuff every day.
My teammates didn't understand what I did. Too bad for them. I knew full well that my pants down dancing parter Christian Prelle was making his T.V. debut that night. He was selected by Janice as one of her models to headline her newly created Latin division
Rell, as he called by those who know him, was my teammate and my roommate for a year at CAL. This is the same guy who was right along side me as I went through my "I'm gonna take a megaphone with me everywhere I go just to cause a scene" phase. This is the guy who used to cook SPAM like it was some sort of delicasy. This is the same guy who was a part of my very first music video. You will never see this video because it was a valentines day video where I said sweet nothings to my then girlfriend. I will tell you that we had a line that went:
"(my part) Zero and RELL with their two breezes,
like pasta shells with the finest cheeses,
(Rell's part) when they're away it aint no fun,
like mid summer, without the sun"
Rell is the only person will literally, always challenge me for the attention of the room. However, when we combine our forces, it is always an event. Whether it's beating halo on co-op mode, watching The Hills (I call him Spencer and he hates it), or pants down dancing, we always get it done. We definitely bring out the cockiness in one another. In fact, we kind of have a credo that we took from The Sandlot: "Heroes live forever, but legends never die."
With that said, this modeling thing has given me soooo much to make fun of him for. There are so many emails going back and forth within the former CAL hoops group that involve this guy right now. I mean this is the guy who would head butt a guy who looked at him the wrong way, now he's taken on a whole new persona.
Pictures of RELL used to look like this:
Solid, right? Rell is a tough looking, party loving animal. These were the days when modeling was just a distant thought on an ambitious day. Now his pictures tend to look like this:
Notice the hair. That coddamn hair! Cmon Rell! I'm sure he didn't have to make his hair look like that, but somewhere along the way he bought it. Oh well, it got him a big time modeling gig.
You may be reading this thinking that you haven't really seen anything so bad. This is true. See, there were two before pictures, and there are two after pictures. I just need to set up the second one a little bit first. This picture was emailed to me the second it was discovered. Upon receipt, I immediately forwarded it to everyone I knew. I then proceeded to call Rell up and he didn't answer...for obvious reasons. I wouldn't answer my phone either if I discovered this:
Wow. The prices we pay for success! For starters, this picture is on a site called MEN.BGAY.COM. No way right now. No way. Then you look at this thing and you see that a guy has his head on Rell's thigh. Then you see that this guy is wearing lace underwear, which is gross. Then you see that Rell has his arm on this guys side. Then you see that that same arm is rubbing against Guy #2's balls. When he signed up for Janice Dickinson I doubt that he envisioned this picture ever being taken. Beyond that he definitely didn't think it would ever surface, but it did.
So I've built Rell up and knocked him down. Now, I'll hype him right back up. You need to watch this guys show. Seriously. I think it comes on Tuesdays at 9:30pm. If nothing else you get to see a former macho guy get naked and take funny pictures and witness the mental conflict he struggles with as he makes it big as a model. All of that, plus he hyped up the Boom Tho! movement in his Janice Dickinson profile.
To quote Rell when talking about himself: "We can't all be legends. Someone has to sit on the curb and clap as I go by."
I clap for this stuff every day.
Giving Thanks
December/07/2007 02:04 PM Filed in: Random
Have you ever spent a Thanksgiving away from every single one of your family members? I have. In fact, I've spent the last six Thanksgivings away from home. It would appear that there is no end in sight to this streak.
I've gotten used to spending holidays away from home because basketball tends to always get in the way of such occasions. Still, besides not seeing my family, I have never gotten used to eating terrible food on a day when the food should be tremendous. There's nothing like getting 88 text messages from people talking about how good their Thanksgiving food is while you're staring down at a pile of goulash.
When I was a freshman at CAL it was the worst. I didn't even own a jacket, yet here I was walking through the streets of Cleveland with Erik Bond looking for a 7/11. Actually, it was more of a backpedal because Erik Bond convinced me that walking backward helped when walking in cold, windy conditions. He was right. So here we are walking backwards in 5 degree weather with snow falling all around us searching for a place to eat...on Thanksgiving. I think I bought a couple hot dogs and some Gatorade from the local 76 gas station and that was it. Great Thanksgiving. Oh yea, and I ended up missing the Big Game (CAL v Stanford football) which just happened to be the first time CAL had won in years. Great road trip. I heard that we marched the goal posts down Bancroft Ave. Real great road trip.
This Thanksgiving started out like that one. This was my official "meal" for the day:
I know it looks real bad, but it tasted pretty decent. It was my first time ever eating Thanksgiving food at Golden Corral Buffet, but since we went as a team I made due. The point is that your meal DEFINITELY looked better than this. On Thanksgiving, this pig slop is just unacceptable.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I needed a little part of what I'm used to. I needed some Sweet Potato Pie. I hadn't had any SPP since I was in high school and my late great grandmother made it, so I felt like I needed to do this the right way. I could have easily gone to Wal-Mart and bought a SPP from Sarah Lee, but I decided to call up moms and get the real family recipe. This is how it went:
Yee! It turned out so coddamn delicious. Just look at the deliciousness.
Ok, so I know what some people are thinking out there. You're wondering what this pie is supposed to be because it looks like the scrumptious pumpkin pie that you're used to eating. You have to be white people. Why? I don't know. I don't know when it started, but sometime long long ago, black people starting eating sweet potato pie and white people started eating pumpkin. I can't explain it. What I can tell you is that I don't know any black people who eat pumpkin pie and (considering I know thousands and thousands of white people) I know only a handful of white people that eat sweet potato. I don't want this to come off as racially insensitive, but for some reason thats how it goes. If you have never tried a sweet potato pie, give it a try. it is much sweeter and better than pumpkin, but then again, I'm biased aren't I?
Well, I figure I'll finish by telling you what I'm thankful for:
10. Colin Brickley (Not at all gay as it sounds)
9. Madden
8. 1080p HDTV's
7. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
6. The D-League
5. The Boom Tho Movement which is > Thankfulness. JK.
4. Madden
3. Short Skirts
2. Short Dresses
1. Family
We will see how Christmas goes.
I've gotten used to spending holidays away from home because basketball tends to always get in the way of such occasions. Still, besides not seeing my family, I have never gotten used to eating terrible food on a day when the food should be tremendous. There's nothing like getting 88 text messages from people talking about how good their Thanksgiving food is while you're staring down at a pile of goulash.
When I was a freshman at CAL it was the worst. I didn't even own a jacket, yet here I was walking through the streets of Cleveland with Erik Bond looking for a 7/11. Actually, it was more of a backpedal because Erik Bond convinced me that walking backward helped when walking in cold, windy conditions. He was right. So here we are walking backwards in 5 degree weather with snow falling all around us searching for a place to eat...on Thanksgiving. I think I bought a couple hot dogs and some Gatorade from the local 76 gas station and that was it. Great Thanksgiving. Oh yea, and I ended up missing the Big Game (CAL v Stanford football) which just happened to be the first time CAL had won in years. Great road trip. I heard that we marched the goal posts down Bancroft Ave. Real great road trip.
This Thanksgiving started out like that one. This was my official "meal" for the day:
I know it looks real bad, but it tasted pretty decent. It was my first time ever eating Thanksgiving food at Golden Corral Buffet, but since we went as a team I made due. The point is that your meal DEFINITELY looked better than this. On Thanksgiving, this pig slop is just unacceptable.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I needed a little part of what I'm used to. I needed some Sweet Potato Pie. I hadn't had any SPP since I was in high school and my late great grandmother made it, so I felt like I needed to do this the right way. I could have easily gone to Wal-Mart and bought a SPP from Sarah Lee, but I decided to call up moms and get the real family recipe. This is how it went:
Yee! It turned out so coddamn delicious. Just look at the deliciousness.
Ok, so I know what some people are thinking out there. You're wondering what this pie is supposed to be because it looks like the scrumptious pumpkin pie that you're used to eating. You have to be white people. Why? I don't know. I don't know when it started, but sometime long long ago, black people starting eating sweet potato pie and white people started eating pumpkin. I can't explain it. What I can tell you is that I don't know any black people who eat pumpkin pie and (considering I know thousands and thousands of white people) I know only a handful of white people that eat sweet potato. I don't want this to come off as racially insensitive, but for some reason thats how it goes. If you have never tried a sweet potato pie, give it a try. it is much sweeter and better than pumpkin, but then again, I'm biased aren't I?
Well, I figure I'll finish by telling you what I'm thankful for:
10. Colin Brickley (Not at all gay as it sounds)
9. Madden
8. 1080p HDTV's
7. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
6. The D-League
5. The Boom Tho Movement which is > Thankfulness. JK.
4. Madden
3. Short Skirts
2. Short Dresses
1. Family
We will see how Christmas goes.
Poem Game 1.5
December/02/2007 01:56 PM Filed in: Poems
First things first, I guess my teammate from last time had a talk with the waitress and she told him that she had a boyfriend. They discussed her situation and decided to just be friends. Now that you have some closure on the last poem game entry, we can move forward.
This time we were all signing autographs as a team. These autograph sessions can get to be a little tedious at times, so I like to spice things up a bit. When we were almost done, the same teammate as before asked me to write another poem for him. The thing about it was that we were back at Buffalo Wild Wings, the same place where the first poem was given. I asked him who he could possibly give it to and he didnt answer. He just wanted another poem.
I sat down with my pen and paper and got to work:
Out with my team on a Tuesday night
I was caught by a beam of light
Your face was a beauty so pure
I can raise my arms because Im Sure
If you were an answer on Jeopardy
I'd say "What is stylish, smart, and sassy?"
What is naturally sunning and classy?
Who makes all other girls look trashy?
Its like you were sent from above
I'm like Alltel, come and get your love
Im drowning in my own emotion -- save me
Will you go out with me? At least say maybe!
So, I hand the poem to my teammate, eager to see who he could possibly hand it to. He walks it over to one of the rookies.
"Rook, you're gonna give this poem to one of these waitresses," he declares.
The rookie was not having it. Seriously, this guy has a look on his face like he'd had enough of the rookie games. This appeared to be the final straw. He literally just refused to give the poem to anyone. I leaned in close to him and whispered in his hear that he should just give it to the same waitress as last time and tell her it's from the same guy. The rookie loved this idea. See, neither of us knew that there had already been closure on the situation. We just figured we would rekindle old feelings and keep the fun going.
Rookie got up and walked the poem over to her. I saw her reaction and thought she was feeling it. My other teammate saw what happened and put 2 and 2 together real quick.
"Are you guys serious right now? I thought he was gonna give it to someone else not give it to her and say it was from me. That's messed up man."
I chimed in as best I could while laughing hysterically. "What's the problem? She's feeling it!"
"No. We talked it out. She has a man and a kid. We gotta go."
We all ran out, got in the vans and left. We have yet to return to Wild Wings.
Look out for the next edition of the poem game.
This time we were all signing autographs as a team. These autograph sessions can get to be a little tedious at times, so I like to spice things up a bit. When we were almost done, the same teammate as before asked me to write another poem for him. The thing about it was that we were back at Buffalo Wild Wings, the same place where the first poem was given. I asked him who he could possibly give it to and he didnt answer. He just wanted another poem.
I sat down with my pen and paper and got to work:
Out with my team on a Tuesday night
I was caught by a beam of light
Your face was a beauty so pure
I can raise my arms because Im Sure
If you were an answer on Jeopardy
I'd say "What is stylish, smart, and sassy?"
What is naturally sunning and classy?
Who makes all other girls look trashy?
Its like you were sent from above
I'm like Alltel, come and get your love
Im drowning in my own emotion -- save me
Will you go out with me? At least say maybe!
So, I hand the poem to my teammate, eager to see who he could possibly hand it to. He walks it over to one of the rookies.
"Rook, you're gonna give this poem to one of these waitresses," he declares.
The rookie was not having it. Seriously, this guy has a look on his face like he'd had enough of the rookie games. This appeared to be the final straw. He literally just refused to give the poem to anyone. I leaned in close to him and whispered in his hear that he should just give it to the same waitress as last time and tell her it's from the same guy. The rookie loved this idea. See, neither of us knew that there had already been closure on the situation. We just figured we would rekindle old feelings and keep the fun going.
Rookie got up and walked the poem over to her. I saw her reaction and thought she was feeling it. My other teammate saw what happened and put 2 and 2 together real quick.
"Are you guys serious right now? I thought he was gonna give it to someone else not give it to her and say it was from me. That's messed up man."
I chimed in as best I could while laughing hysterically. "What's the problem? She's feeling it!"
"No. We talked it out. She has a man and a kid. We gotta go."
We all ran out, got in the vans and left. We have yet to return to Wild Wings.
Look out for the next edition of the poem game.
Im Really Good at the Internet
December/01/2007 01:54 PM Filed in: Random
I think I am becoming an internet champion. What is an internet champion? Funny you should ask. I actually just made it up 30 seconds ago. An internet champion is always winning--at the internet. Simply put, I am most likely better at it than you.
I am just plain winning at the internet. My MySpace is championship calibre. My Facebook is real hot right now. My blog is rated number 1. Solid yes, but there are four more internet related things that I can't help but be dominant at:
Wyld Stallions:
The "Wyld Stallions" are the members of my fantasy football team. After a 2-3 start, the stallions have run off 7 straight and have already clinched a playoff birth. What makes the Stallions so Wyld? I manage them. Drew Brees, Brian Westbrook, Braylon Edwards, Wes Welker, and Hines Ward all contribute to my complete domination of my fantasy football league.
Bayside Tigers:
The "Bayside Tigers" are the members of my fantasy basketball team. Basically, I don't even need to check my standings because I play in a league full of pro basketball idiots. I had the first pick in the draft, so I obviously took K.G. because I am smart and I want to win. But there are 16 people in our league, so I didn't get to pick again until picks 32 and 33, then picks 64 and 65 and so on. I was able to get KG, Carlos Boozer, Tony Parker, Richard Jefferson, and Chris Kaman, among others. After the draft I decided that the league wasn't even worth playing because my team was already too good. One guy even threatened to change his team name to the Valley Bulldogs to be my rival. I dont think he knows that Valley never beats Bayside. I smell another internet championship.
When I was doing the draft, I noticed that every single player had a preseason ranking. I think there were about 900 ranked players to chose from. KG was #1, LeBron was #2. Rod Benson was on the list at number 594. 594 was ahead of Kevin Lyde's 630-something, Dontell Jefferson's 680-something, and Carlos Powell's 712. Mo Baker got me by 6 spots I think. I didn't care what my ranking was, I drafted myself in the 13th round. The way I see it, when I get called up, I'll provide my own fantasy stats.
Kevin and Dontell can't believe they are rated lower than me.
Pwiggle Boomhauer:
This may be my proudest, and lamest, internet achievement to date. Pwiggle Boomhauer is my name. Actually, you could call Pwiggle Boomhauer my second name. If you're in the know, then you already know what that means, if not, then I'll break it down for you.
I was watching "The Office" a few weeks back and I saw that Dwight joined a website called SecondLife.com. Dwight's job in SecondLife was Assistant to the Regional Manager, same as in real life, he even wore the same short sleeve dress shirt and dumb tie in his SecondLife. Later in the episode, Jim Halpert had also created a Second Jim to track Dwight's movements in Second World.
After the episode finished, I went to SecondLife.com to see what all the fuss wad about. It's basically a 3D world that is all user created. You go on there and make a 3D person and then use this person to live in a fully interactive and user created 3D online world. There is even a currency called "Linden" and it has an actual exchange rate to real USD no joke. I think its like 500 Lindens = 1USD I am not kidding you at all. If you set up a shop on SecondLife you can make REAL UNITED STATES DOLLARS by getting so many Linden's. That's SecondLife.
So I was in Berkeley just days before coming out to North Dakota and I decided that if Jim Halpert had a SecondLife, Rod Benson should have one too. Sitting in the living room of the basketball team house, I created my new online identity: Pwiggle Boomhauer. The last names have to come from a list, but the first name is all you. Pwiggle Boomhauer was born and ready to rock. The thing was, the guys on the Cal team all got into it and created SecondLives too. Oscallante Weatherwax and Beamont Marksman were a couple of the SecondNames people came up with. Even my old trainer at Cal got into the act. His name? Swarley Wingtips.
All set up and ready to rock, I entered SecondWorld without any expectations. What I have discovered so far is that it is extremely hard to get Linden's. It really pisses me off that I currently have 0L (zero Linden's). Basically I can't buy anything. I can walk around and talk to people. I can voice chat with them. I can even dance, but I can't buy a coddamn thing.
Somehow one of my old Cal teammates (Beaumont Marksman) managed to make 50L. He is a SecondLife master as far as I'm concerned. Women on SecondLife walk up to him and ask him to make out and he agrees. They engage in virtual 3D online make out sessions that look just awkward. Seriously, imagine Andy Milonakis in a make out scene, then make it twice as awkward, but also overly passionate because 3D Virtual People don't have different scales of kiss. I digress.
I am not doing well at SecondLife because Lindens control everything. I can't even upgrade my clothes. It took me a week to figure out how to take off this feminine looking half zip cardigan I was wearing. Now I have a super tight green shirt and "Nightclub Jeans". Definitely not a good look:
See my shirt? See my pants? I'm over here in Dance Island trying to get people to talk to me and it's just not going down. I may be one of the only people in the whole SecondLife who have better luck in a real life club than in one online. I need Lindens. I need them badly. I cant even get a good black man haircut without them! I will basically commit to a SecondLife of crime soon if I cant find a legal way to get Lindens. I will continue to update you on the progress of Pwiggle Boomhauer, the underachieving, feminine looking, too-tight shirt wearing, Dance Island loser. Im actually not even close to championship calibre in SecondLife because I have no Linden's, but I want you to know I'm coming.
toomuch pwiggle:
O.K. So, after months of me saying one thing and then doing another, I finally, seriously am on XBOX Live again. My name is toomuch pwiggle. All lower case baby. Come find me if you want a loss on your record. I consider myself the best Madden player in pro sports. Prove me wrong.
Lastly, while I have your attention, go ahead and email/comment with good boomisms and I will add them in for the boom tho button. Hollar.
I am just plain winning at the internet. My MySpace is championship calibre. My Facebook is real hot right now. My blog is rated number 1. Solid yes, but there are four more internet related things that I can't help but be dominant at:
Wyld Stallions:
The "Wyld Stallions" are the members of my fantasy football team. After a 2-3 start, the stallions have run off 7 straight and have already clinched a playoff birth. What makes the Stallions so Wyld? I manage them. Drew Brees, Brian Westbrook, Braylon Edwards, Wes Welker, and Hines Ward all contribute to my complete domination of my fantasy football league.
Bayside Tigers:
The "Bayside Tigers" are the members of my fantasy basketball team. Basically, I don't even need to check my standings because I play in a league full of pro basketball idiots. I had the first pick in the draft, so I obviously took K.G. because I am smart and I want to win. But there are 16 people in our league, so I didn't get to pick again until picks 32 and 33, then picks 64 and 65 and so on. I was able to get KG, Carlos Boozer, Tony Parker, Richard Jefferson, and Chris Kaman, among others. After the draft I decided that the league wasn't even worth playing because my team was already too good. One guy even threatened to change his team name to the Valley Bulldogs to be my rival. I dont think he knows that Valley never beats Bayside. I smell another internet championship.
When I was doing the draft, I noticed that every single player had a preseason ranking. I think there were about 900 ranked players to chose from. KG was #1, LeBron was #2. Rod Benson was on the list at number 594. 594 was ahead of Kevin Lyde's 630-something, Dontell Jefferson's 680-something, and Carlos Powell's 712. Mo Baker got me by 6 spots I think. I didn't care what my ranking was, I drafted myself in the 13th round. The way I see it, when I get called up, I'll provide my own fantasy stats.
Kevin and Dontell can't believe they are rated lower than me.
Pwiggle Boomhauer:
This may be my proudest, and lamest, internet achievement to date. Pwiggle Boomhauer is my name. Actually, you could call Pwiggle Boomhauer my second name. If you're in the know, then you already know what that means, if not, then I'll break it down for you.
I was watching "The Office" a few weeks back and I saw that Dwight joined a website called SecondLife.com. Dwight's job in SecondLife was Assistant to the Regional Manager, same as in real life, he even wore the same short sleeve dress shirt and dumb tie in his SecondLife. Later in the episode, Jim Halpert had also created a Second Jim to track Dwight's movements in Second World.
After the episode finished, I went to SecondLife.com to see what all the fuss wad about. It's basically a 3D world that is all user created. You go on there and make a 3D person and then use this person to live in a fully interactive and user created 3D online world. There is even a currency called "Linden" and it has an actual exchange rate to real USD no joke. I think its like 500 Lindens = 1USD I am not kidding you at all. If you set up a shop on SecondLife you can make REAL UNITED STATES DOLLARS by getting so many Linden's. That's SecondLife.
So I was in Berkeley just days before coming out to North Dakota and I decided that if Jim Halpert had a SecondLife, Rod Benson should have one too. Sitting in the living room of the basketball team house, I created my new online identity: Pwiggle Boomhauer. The last names have to come from a list, but the first name is all you. Pwiggle Boomhauer was born and ready to rock. The thing was, the guys on the Cal team all got into it and created SecondLives too. Oscallante Weatherwax and Beamont Marksman were a couple of the SecondNames people came up with. Even my old trainer at Cal got into the act. His name? Swarley Wingtips.
All set up and ready to rock, I entered SecondWorld without any expectations. What I have discovered so far is that it is extremely hard to get Linden's. It really pisses me off that I currently have 0L (zero Linden's). Basically I can't buy anything. I can walk around and talk to people. I can voice chat with them. I can even dance, but I can't buy a coddamn thing.
Somehow one of my old Cal teammates (Beaumont Marksman) managed to make 50L. He is a SecondLife master as far as I'm concerned. Women on SecondLife walk up to him and ask him to make out and he agrees. They engage in virtual 3D online make out sessions that look just awkward. Seriously, imagine Andy Milonakis in a make out scene, then make it twice as awkward, but also overly passionate because 3D Virtual People don't have different scales of kiss. I digress.
I am not doing well at SecondLife because Lindens control everything. I can't even upgrade my clothes. It took me a week to figure out how to take off this feminine looking half zip cardigan I was wearing. Now I have a super tight green shirt and "Nightclub Jeans". Definitely not a good look:
See my shirt? See my pants? I'm over here in Dance Island trying to get people to talk to me and it's just not going down. I may be one of the only people in the whole SecondLife who have better luck in a real life club than in one online. I need Lindens. I need them badly. I cant even get a good black man haircut without them! I will basically commit to a SecondLife of crime soon if I cant find a legal way to get Lindens. I will continue to update you on the progress of Pwiggle Boomhauer, the underachieving, feminine looking, too-tight shirt wearing, Dance Island loser. Im actually not even close to championship calibre in SecondLife because I have no Linden's, but I want you to know I'm coming.
toomuch pwiggle:
O.K. So, after months of me saying one thing and then doing another, I finally, seriously am on XBOX Live again. My name is toomuch pwiggle. All lower case baby. Come find me if you want a loss on your record. I consider myself the best Madden player in pro sports. Prove me wrong.
Lastly, while I have your attention, go ahead and email/comment with good boomisms and I will add them in for the boom tho button. Hollar.

